One Last Goodbye
Whenever I see someone on television (or in the movies) totally wrecked after a breakup, I often think, “Is it really that bad?”
Yes, actually, it is.
I’ve just never known from breakups, because I’m the one who’s always done the dumping.
I scared him off.
I knew I would, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Kind of like when my paternal grandmother died…I knew she was dying (of cancer), but that didn’t make it any easier when she was finally gone.
I could feel myself toeing the line every time I said or did something new or daring…it’s just that I never knew when I was going to fall off the cliff.
One of my friends told me to give it time and I’ll bounce back.
Except you don’t “bounce back” from going “psycho-stalker chick” and sending someone a book filled with rapey shit. It doesn’t happen.
Right now, all I can think about is how it paralyzes my writing.
Completely selfish, I know, as I should be off apologizing for everything…
…but I have a book that’s supposed to come out 17 April and I’m wondering how the hell I’m supposed to edit it and get it out into the world if his “avatar” is the male lead and thinking of him makes me cry all the time. (It’s not supposed to come out of “simmer” until 2 April, but still…)
I can’t work on book one of the trilogy. He’s not in it until almost the end, but it’s still the trilogy and he’s still emotionally tied into it.
I can’t work on Dark and Dirty Games…he’s the “damsel in distress” archetype, along with Jamie.
I can’t work on January Rain, because he’s either the priest or the rescuer…I never did work that out with him and Jamie.
Heck, I can’t even work on that crazyass idea I had last night about “vampire Jesus”, because there he’d be as my model of Pontius Pilatus again.
I’m sorry about it, but I refuse to ever regret it, because that’s not me. That’s not my usual balls-to-the-wall, fuck-the-world self.
As I said so many times to my Jamie “poppet”: No matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, I will always love you.
And to borrow a quote from the much-maligned Silver RavenWolf: Spirit without end, magick with love; so mote it be.